


giving in

by freedomqueen



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Grief, Loss, S04E03 Happy birthday Indigo Moon, Set right after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:08:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29085150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freedomqueen/pseuds/freedomqueen
Summary: Canon divergence, takes place and dives into the events of S04E03 | Miss Hardbroom is troubled not only by the aftermath of Indigo Moon’s birthday and Mildred Hubble’s troubling questions, but a particular decision made by one of the people she trusted more. Ada’s choice awoke memories long forgotten but, again, both witches have each other to make it through the vast night… or a new moon cycle.
Relationships: Amelia Cackle | Ada Cackle & Hardbroom, Amelia Cackle | Ada Cackle/Hardbroom, Hackle - Relationship, Hecate Hardbroom/Ada Cackle
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	giving in

**Author's Note:**

> 2021 brought yet another new fandom for me to write about and I couldn’t be happier. Before I leave you to the story, I wanted to say that there are things taken and inspired by the series (of course!) and others that are mine (which could be further explored if Hackle keeps the inspiration ongoing). You might also find a little bit of reference to the Wizarding World because a girl cannot resist merging two magical worlds. Disclaimer: Although I wish to, I do not own any The Worst Witch/Harry Potter rights or characters.
> 
> I also would like to thanks talented and incredibly gifted writer [@TheMarvelousMadMadamMim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMarvelousMadMadamMim) for taking the time to do the first round of editing and advising me with HB and Ada’s characterization, especially Ada’s enchantment/prayer bit. If you are a Hackle shipper and haven’t checked her stories yet, it’s a must! And [@hypernovae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypernovae) for kindly agreeing to help me out with the final checks. Without their help, this one-shot probably would’ve never seen the light. Last but not least, thank you [@parrillayoung](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parrillayoung), one of my dearest friends, who’s always eager to read whatever crazy fanfic I’ve come up with and make the most useful suggestions. PS. For Hicsqueak fans, she just posted [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29007258/chapters/71192673) amazing story. Go and give it some love! ♡
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading the story as much I enjoyed writing it! If you do feel like it, please leave kudos and/or comments; it’s always a boost for the spirit.

* * *

> _“That’s the thing about pain. It demands to be felt.”  
>  _-John Green

Mildred Hubble’s heartbroken yet demanding voice still echoed in Hecate’s mind. What the girl had asked would stay with her for quite some time, she suspected. In any silent moment or whenever her mind was unoccupied with everyday academy business, Hecate knew the questions would come back to haunt her.

_“It’s not sad that she’s gone, is it? I mean, she’s where she’s meant to be. It’s not sad that she won’t grow up to be a witch, if she won’t even remember there are witches. It’s not sad, is it?”_

_Of course it’s sad!_ _And it’s not only sad, you_ wretched _girl_ , _but it’s also unfair. But then again, when life is fair? Please, do enlighten me._ Those were the bitter words Hecate had truly wanted to holler at young, naïve, foolish Mildred Hubble.

Instead, she had quickly compartmentalized her overwhelming feelings, allowing full room for a mature response. All she had the strength to mutter, her voice barely above a whisper, was a detached: _Entirely correct_ and she dared to not look at Mildred’s now piercing blue eyes. She knew the sadness in them would demolish her well-constructed defences.

Why shatter another heart when hers could take it all? Ultimately, she was Miss Cackle’s Academy deputy head and potions mistress. She had a duty of care towards her pupils, didn’t she? Which in that moment meant to ease Mildred’s suffering, didn’t it? And even if Hecate had dared to speak out what she really thought a few hours ago, what would she have said?

She couldn’t tell the girl or anyone else that since Indigo Moon was brought back to life, _hers_ began crumbling into millions of pieces. The young witch’s existence was the embodiment of her terrible mistake, as she had harshly told Mildred. A mistake that had cost them both thirty years of their lives: Indigo hadn’t had any while Hecate was confined within the academy grounds.

If she were an ordinary person, she would have fled the instant she had learned the extended consequences of Mildred’s actions. A dose of forgetting powders would do the trick but Hecate was, before anything else, even before being a coward, a _witch_.

That meant she –like many witches before her– would take responsibility for her mistake, just as she preached to her students. She wouldn’t whine for the things that hadn’t worked out her way, no. She would make things go her way.

Clinging desperately to that feeling and her sense of duty, Hecate had reached out to the Great Wizard, requesting to be witching guardian to Indigo Moon, to own her mistake and take responsibility –to do what a witch would do. It was one way to turn some wrongs into rights. But just as easily as she let herself believe mending her mistake was truly a possibility, it was taken away from her.

_“It’s not sad, is it?”_

First, it had been Ethel Hallow, deliberately exposing her not only in front of Indigo but the rest of the students and her colleagues. After that, it took all of her strength to build up the courage to try to explain to Indigo what her true, sincere intentions were. But because of her paralyzing fear and her irrational actions, Hecate let the girl believe she wanted her out of the school – _that she_ _wanted to be rid of her_.

_“HB doesn’t care. Never has.”_

She could still hear Indigo’s regretful voice before she transferred into the potions’ lab. If only she had been brave enough, she could have stopped both from hurting. Hecate despised herself for not being able to tell her –even at that non-returning point when she set her mind on sending the girl back in time– that she did care, she always had.

She cared enough to crush, without any shadow of doubt, her own expectations and let her old friend go the instant she learned Indigo’s mother had been looking for her the whole time. It was not only the perfect solution –to send the girl back in time– but also the perfect excuse. Because if Hecate was completely honest, she was afraid the girl would refuse her as her guardian.

Then, the justification presented itself to her crystal clear: Indigo’s mother came before any possible motive or reason she could have to become the girl’s witching guardian. After all, who was she to deprive someone of maternal love?

The answer as to what she would’ve said to Mildred if she had been reckless enough to speak out what was truly on her mind after she succeeded in her plan –to send Indigo back in time– remained unanswered. How could words even begin to describe the turmoil of her emotions and regrets?

She was almost entirely sure there weren’t words to describe how she was feeling –how she had been feeling for the past thirty years of her life. How could someone begin to describe a broken, bleeding heart?

Ada _knew_ , of course, for she knew her like the back of her hand. However, soon enough, Hecate learned not even Ada comprehended the extent of her true feelings regarding Indigo’s ordeal. Proof of her error of judgment had been the afternoon’s events, when Cackle’s headmistress had secretly and deliberately chosen to confront her with a non-magical, fully grown, _permanent_ , version of Indigo.

Hoping for what? A heart-warming reunion? Pacing back and forth in her chambers under Morgana’s scrutinizing eyes, Hecate wondered what could Ada have possibly been thinking. The Indigo Moon they knew was gone, so why force her to confront a stranger, who didn’t know or remember anything of the years they shared?

If Hecate intended to get through the night (and that definitely was a good place to start), she needed to stop the hurtful line of thoughts.

With a _snap_ of her fingers, she cast a bathing spell (too drained to even attempt to take an actual trip to her bathtub). Her daily clothes disappeared and instead she was dressed in her loose black nightgown. Her skin and magic were tingling at the sudden exposure to the coolness of her chambers. Another _snap_ and her long jet-black hair loosened, still damp due to her bathing spell, soft curls cascading over her sharp shoulders and down her slim back.

Followed closely by her familiar, she sat on the small stool before her vanity. Her sleeping rituals would soothe her thoughts and feelings but most importantly, her magic. Ever the self-aware, Hecate didn’t fail to notice her magic had become restless, the uncomfortable sensation increasing in the aftermath of Indigo’s birthday.

It was a slightly frightening feeling, one that had been absent for many moon cycles now. Ada had helped her to control and temper the unstable ripples of foreign magic that claimed hers whenever it was time for the new moon – _negotiate with it,_ Ada would have corrected her with an exasperated tone and a roll of her eyes.

Despite the ordeal they had been through, Hecate treasured how Ada had reacted to it all. The older witch, without inquiries, had held her all the way through –during that winter break, their relationship easily but progressively shifted from being functional colleagues to friends; then to confidants. It took years, and it still did, but being each other’s touchstone became a mutual, unspoken, agreement.

They didn’t speak about it, not anymore, but it had been a turning point for both Ada and Hecate. Something good had come out of all they had endured. The moment was still vivid in her mind, as if events had happened just yesterday.

*******

_Many, many years ago_

_It had been one of the coldest winter breaks Hecate could remember when she came to understand the true extent and source of her magic. Ada had been settling in as Cackle’s headmistress, with little (if any at all) help from her sister Agatha, the very much absent deputy._

_When she informed her superior of her decision_ _to stay at Cackle’s during winter break (which at least, for some time, would be perceived as such: a decision, a choice), Ada hadn’t asked why. Curiosity shone in the woman’s eyes, probably debating whether she could or_ should _ask why the potions mistress decided to stay at the academy grounds instead of going away, most likely to her significant ones._

_In the end, to her surprise, Ada simply smiled and confessed she was truly grateful for the company rather than dwelling in the reasons why. The woman was oblivious to the real motives that kept her within academy grounds, clearly. She would eventually find out, but for the moment Hecate decided she quite liked Ada’s character. It was one of those rare things to become acquainted with someone that understood –and most importantly, respected– her notion of privacy._

_With the girls, the rest of the teachers and the service staff gone, the academy had been deliciously quiet for over a month. The lanterns had all been out during the break, except for the ones that would only light up in hers and Ada’s respective private chambers, or the places they shared during the nights –which mostly were her potions lab and the headmistress’ office._

_That night, the only lanterns that shone amidst the castle’s engulfing darkness were the library’s. A considerable number of books were scattered all over the table they had chosen for their research, while some others rested on the floor, along with several empty cups and plates. Their shoes were lost somewhere amongst the intellectual chaos they had unfolded._

_Over the month they shared together, Ada had effortlessly blurred the boundaries of their professional relationship. Her heart-warming and welcoming personality had found a way through Hecate’s armour, and although she wouldn’t acknowledge it out loud, she was grateful for Ada’s carefree attitude towards her. It made it easier for Hecate to interact with her. The solemn respect she felt for Ada as her headmistress was intact but she saw the woman’s humanity behind the title._

_Hecate decided she really,_ really _liked Ada._

_With boundaries blurred, she also learned the woman could be endearingly infuriating when her mind was set on something. Which was why Hecate was methodically rubbing –with delicate slender fingers– her temples trying to ease the headache that had progressively been building there. She rolled her eyes,_ again _, at what her companion was saying._

_When she spoke her voice was edgy, her patience reaching its limit from physical exhaustion but mostly because she was getting tired of repeating to the older witch (for maybe the third time?): “I am not a descendant of Selene, Ada, nor do I have power equal to the Moon Goddess. That’s ill-founded nonsense –if not heresy– and I’m trying to be polite here”._

_Ada ignored hers sincere –yet overly exaggerated– protests. Peering at her over the top of her glasses, the woman’s blue eyes gave a pointed look to Hecate’s still-shaking hands, up to the nasty gash on her left cheek and down to the scratches visible on her exposed neck. Under Miss Cackle’s meaningful look, she only tightened her robe, crossing her arms over her middle._

_Ada hadn’t said a word, but Hecate could swear she had heard the woman’s sassy voice saying: “You can’t deny what I’m saying, not with the healing scars dancing painfully against your skin, Hecate dear” –the headmistress’ voice and intonation definitely giving extra stress to the word_ dear _, like scolding a misbehaved child._

_She didn’t have the strength to argue with what Ada was not saying but perfectly implying. It was true, her whole body still ached and her magic kept sending irregular throbs through her bloodstream, so she simply sighed resigned and let her body fall against the chair, momentarily closing her eyes._

_At a shuffling movement, Hecate opened her eyes again, her attention back on Ada, who was slowly closing the book she had been reading and leaning over the table, mischief dancing in her eyes, an unreadable smile creeping on her lips. Arching one perfect eyebrow –her signature move– she leaned over the table as well, expecting whatever realization the woman was about to share with her._

_“In this light, with that silver shimmering in your wounds, you most certainly look like one,” Ada held her gaze and Hecate noticed the headmistress was trying her best to repress a smirk while waiting for some reaction._

_Ada could embarrass her so easily, just for the sake of finding her response endearing. That much the cheeky woman has blatantly confessed a few nights ago during their nightly cup of tea. The teasing (or Ada’s teasing, to be accurate) was one of the things that the new phase of their relationship allowed._

_“A goddess, I mean,” Ada clarified, although she didn’t need to._

_Hecate just scoffed at her, unable to think of a reasonable, nonchalant response. Hands up in surrender, she let herself fell back against the chair. Whenever the woman made any flirtatious remark, Hecate couldn’t argue back, as she was lost for words. With the defeat accepted, Ada’s grin finally crept up freely on her lips._

_Done with the teasing, they fell again into a comfortable silence, fully concentrated on their task: researching Selene’s lineage. All renowned authors and scholars from the magic world agreed the daughters of the moon were witches that possessed incredibly rare magic._

_However, they wouldn’t agree if there had actually been descendants of the Moon Goddess and if their power was due to the ancient silver blood running through their veins or if the so-called “daughters of the moon” was a colourful poetic name for witches that drew their magic from the celestial body._

_In either case, there were hardly any records because –and all authors coincided on that point– moon power required incredible effort and discipline to master. The volatility of that kind of power resided precisely in the moon phases. It was unsteady magic._

***

After many years of relative calmness –regarding her powers– it frightened Hecate to feel her magic spiralling gradually out of control, ready to implode at any unforeseen incitement. The celestial body was reaching its new moon phase, which wasn’t reassuring either.

Feeling her mistress’ restlessness, Morgana jumped to Hecate’s lap pointing out the shawl that was on her side. It was delicately embroidered in silver threads; the pattern representing the different phases of the moon. She knew Morgana had loved Ada’s gift just as much as she did, despite the pun intended.

At first, she had been troubled by the idea that the new moon was symbolized in the black of the material, which was more predominant than the silver-threaded details. She had dismissed that thought back then, but given the circumstances, the uneasiness crept in her mind again.

_“Thank you,”_ Hecate lovingly thought and pleased with her caring actions, her familiar snuggled on her lap. She knew Morgana was affected by what was happening with her magic as well, so she wasn’t surprised when she felt Morgana’s magic trying to blend with hers.

Encouraged by her familiar’s comforting magic beaming against her own and the warmth of the shawl –Ada’s warmth– caressing her skin, she started brushing her long, jet-black hair. All things combined grounded her in the moment, pacifying her troubling thoughts and her fidgety magic.

Then her eyes wandered to Indigo’s bracelet, forgotten on the vanity and the tears Hecate had been holding back since she learned the girl was no longer a statue fell freely down her cheeks. She felt exhausted. The reflection the mirror gave back was not encouraging either, it was merciless. Disgusted by her own broken image, she threw the hairbrush at the mirror, shattering it to pieces.

At the sudden outburst, Morgana jumped from her lap and left her mistress’ chambers. Hecate clamped a trembling hand over her mouth, while the other embraced her middle, as if it somehow could keep the pain from spreading further. The ache and despair, however, were too strong and bent her will.

She could feel her magic swirling inside her, unleashing the chaos she had perfectly and meticulously bottled up until that moment. Hecate perceived Ada’s dainty magic even before the witch transferred into her bedchambers. Morgana came along with her, as if she were granting permission for Ada’s sudden intrusion on her mistress’ private quarters.

**…**

“Hecate!”

When Morgana came for her, Ada hadn’t been surprised. She had been aware of Hecate’s shifting magic and with all that had been happening lately, she was astonished hell didn’t break loose sooner. But, of course, it was Hecate. She knew the woman would rather break than bend, which was precisely what terrified Ada.

All she could do was made sure the younger witch knew that if she were needed, she would be there. Since Indigo appeared once again in Hecate’s life, the potions mistress had been reticent, guarded and unapproachable –very much like when Ada had re-joined Cackle’s. She would do anything within her reach to help the woman she secretly (at least the romantic bit) loved but the decision to take her helping hand was not hers to make.

Even though her actions were well-intended, the moment she transferred into Hecate’s chambers she knew such a thing would be read as an intrusion –a breach of trust. Morgana’s invitation wouldn’t change that fact, but Ada would be damned if –even for a moment– Hecate believed her privacy was something more valuable than her life.

_Witch on,_ Ada thought. She would deal with that issue later, _if_ the time came. 

As soon as she made herself fully present in Hecate’s chambers, the woman’s magic sent harsh waves rejecting her presence. She saw the urge of Hecate trying to stop her tears, as well as her desperate attempts to regain control over her momentarily raw, untamed magic.

_Always trying to protect me against all harm,_ Ada mused to herself.

Hesitantly, she took a step towards her friend but Hecate reflexively stood up from the vanity’s tool, taking a few steps away from her –as if she was afraid of her.

_No. She’s afraid her magic would try to hurt_ me _,_ Ada realized.

“Leave, _please_ ,” Hecate said, her voice quivering –barely above a whisper.

Withdrawn to the edge of her room, she was no longer the intimidating, severe Miss Hardbroom, the terror of the corridors. Instead, she resembled a cornered, beaten-up animal. But even then Hecate was, unknowingly, sizing her up. It was an attitude Ada had noted over all their years of friendship and she would bet her life that her deputy wasn’t aware of such a thing.

It could be described as a dare or flee situation. It hadn’t happened very often. In fact, the fingers of one hand would suffice to recount those rare occasions. However, when it had happened, Ada could swear in those moments she could hear Hecate’s voice saying: “These are my demons, this is my darkness. Now that you know, would you stay?”

Dare or flee… as if renewing unspoken vows, each time, she dared. Ada stayed.

“I can stay in silence if you–”

“I want _you_ to leave!” Hecate, unlike her, howled. The mirrors and windows in the room broke into a million pieces at her outburst, but she didn’t seem to notice it. “After all you put me through, why can’t you _just_ leave?”

Dare or flee.

Ada had seen her deputy headmistress in such state once before, a very long, long time ago. She truly didn’t understand what the other woman was talking about or what she could have possibly done to upset her dearest friend in such a way.

She felt Hecate’s magic menacing pulsing through the room, a silver aura surrounding her, making itself stronger, almost entirely visible. Ada contracted her face in pain when Miss Hardbroom took a step further away from her, not noticing the damage the broken glass caused to her bare feet.

“I don’t understand, dearest–”

“You have no right to– Indigo Moon wasn’t even gone before you threw her at me all over again, Ada,” such despair and hurt invaded the woman’s voice, such broken trust in her darkened eyes.

It was then Ada realised the damage she had caused –although she hadn’t intended to.

Hecate’s magic kept beating with outrage and hurt. She could feel it claiming every inch of the room, trying to impose over her Ada’s own magic as well, though the recipient of such power hadn’t realised, which made the situation even more dangerous. She needed to ground her friend or she feared Hecate would be beyond reach.

“I thought–”

“You thought wrong, that’s quite clear,” Hecate rudely interrupted, hot tears shining in the woman’s cheeks. Ada noticed her deep brown eyes flickered with a peculiar silver spark.

Miss Hardbroom’s harsh words hurt and Ada had to blink back her tears because she knew it must have been what Hecate probably had been thinking during the afternoon, except the magic was doing the sharp talking. But it didn’t make the words any less true.

**…**

Hecate noticed the damage her words were causing –her friend’s eyes glistened with unshed tears but she didn’t care; her agitated magic didn’t leave room for caring, it demanded to be felt. She was the one hurting. She was the one that, _again_ , had lost.

“Hecate, I understand now. Please, let me help you. _Tell me what you need_ ,” Ada implored her, waving a hand at her feet. The shattered pieces of glass were restored into full sheets and returned back to their original places; Miss Hardbroom’s feet remained stained with blood.

The woman’s choice of words triggered another memory from earlier in the day.

_“Why should I care what_ you _want? You don't care what_ I _want.”_

_“I am concerned with what you_ need _!”_

_“Like you know what I need.”_

_“Yes, I do! You are gifted magically, but you are reckless! You require boundaries. Without them, you will never become a witch!”_

_“I never wanted to be a witch! I just wanted someone who cared. I’d give it all up tomorrow for that.”_

Hecate’s magic sent one final agonizing pulse through her body, sending her crumbling down to the floor. She didn’t see it, but Ada must have run to her before she hit the ground because she felt being embraced with her steady, loving arms. Despite the warm comfort Ada’s arms provided she felt –even numb– the woman’s magic trying to get away from hers. Ada must have felt it as well, but she persisted clinging Hecate’s heavy body. 

Miss Hardbroom allowed the gesture and cried in the woman’s arms. She cried because she cared –she cared so deeply and so much that she would sacrifice her possibility of contentment for Indigo to have a chance to be happy, to be reunited with her mother and to grow up loved, and wanted… _and cared for._

“It’s all right,” Ada reassuringly whispered as she cradled her against her chest, lovingly stroking Hecate’s long hair. “It’s all right.”

Her magic insisted on trying to resist Ada’s but –as it had happened before– the woman’s magic had found a way through Hecate’s defences. Their magic danced around each other’s, testing, tensing and redefining their limits. A soothing feeling spread all over her body –it was their magic slowly but steadily blending in.

“It’s all right,” Ada kept saying with a soft voice, like a mantra.

_Except it isn’t_ , Hecate thought.

She wanted, _needed_ to say it out loud, to put those words –her feelings– out in the world. She wished Ada could make her the same promise Mildred had so easily made to Indigo: that everything was going to be fine. She knew otherwise –it was not going to be fine for a while… it would take quite some long time before everything could go back to _just fine_.

“It’s all going to be fine, Hecate,” Ada whispered for the last time, giving a loving kiss against her temple. If circumstances were otherwise, she would be lost for words, even shocked at the light-hearted, intimate gesture.

  
“You are in no position to make such promises,” with a small, broken voice, Hecate echoed the exact same words she had spoken to young Mildred Hubble only hours ago.

***

At some point, Hecate realised she must have passed out, because when she regained consciousness –still not entirely in control of her body and magic– she was no longer on her room’s cold floor.

She was resting sidewise in her cushioned bed, her head resting on Ada’s lap while the woman affectionately caressed her loose hair with steady, gentle hands. The elder witch’s magic was doing the same for hers: light pink blending with deep purple, the strong wind dancing around the ever-present gravitas of the moon.

Ada kept whispering something, though Hecate’s mind was still too foggy to make sense out of what the woman was saying.

It wasn’t a spell, that she _felt_. It was a prayer.

> _“Moon Goddess of the celestial vault above us,_
> 
> _who knows so much of loss and everlasting love_
> 
> _Of your precious child once deprived and many,_
> 
> _many moons passed by until both reunited,_
> 
> _revived heart._
> 
> _I summon you with an open, loving heart._
> 
> _Feel my love, hear my plea, I implore you,_
> 
> _oh, merciful Selene, heavenly deity, do not take_
> 
> _Hecate away from me.”_

Her body and magic still felt numb, unable to move or think straight. She did perceive Dimity Drill’s magic in the room apart from hers, Ada’s and Morgana’s. Its presence wasn’t as strong as the other two, it felt flurried; she suspected Drill came in and out of her room following Ada’s orders, for sure. The PE teacher would never, under any circumstances, enter her chambers without her leave.

The women were whispering, although she couldn’t comprehend what they were saying. Ada’s hand never stopped reassuringly stroking her hair. She also felt Morgana firmly pressed against her chest, sending soothing waves of energy. A few moments later, she noticed Miss Drill’s magic was gone and didn’t come back –it was probably too late and someone needed to make sure the girls were ready to go to bed.

**…**

Hecate couldn’t pin down how much time had passed since her magical outburst –if it had been only 15 minutes or if it had been hours or days ago. If she were to guess based only on the exhaustion her body and magic were experiencing, she would say the moment had lasted forever. Her thoughts were interrupted by Ada’s gentle voice.

“Hecate, _look at me_ , please.”

She could feel the woman’s hands lightly touching her cheeks, turning her head with care so she could meet her eyes. “Can you speak to me? Anything, dear.”

Ada was trying –desperately, she could hear it in the woman’s voice– to reach out to her. And by all means, she wanted to acknowledge her call, but she couldn’t. Hecate despised herself for it; her inability to communicate brought so much sorrow into the older witch’s eyes and she hated to see that concern on Ada’s face. She would give up her magic, if that would enable her to articulate her thoughts into actual words and put an end to Miss Cackle’s misery.

She needed to appease the emotional turmoil of her magic… or it would strain her forever. Ada and Morgana’s steady magic were helping but all she could hear when she closed her eyes was Mildred Hubble’s accusing, unforgiving voice.

_“How could you, Miss Hardbroom? How could you get it_ so _wrong?”_

_***_

Hecate felt Miss Drill’s presence once more time in her room. At the sudden intrusion, she instinctively searched for Ada’s magic. She then noticed the smoothness of her pillow against her cheek, she was no longer resting on the older witch’s warm lap, but Ada was still there, sitting at her bedside. Morgana remained snuggled against her chest.

Dimity gave a shining flask to the headmistress and stood behind the armchair the woman was sitting in. Hecate felt Drill’s shuffling magic, debating whether she should speak her mind or simply the room.

“Miss Cackle,” Ada hummed but didn’t turn to face her colleague, her eyes were fixed on the ancient book they had read many years ago: _The Lineage of the Moon: Keys to Invoke and Master Moon Power_. “It’s been 3 days. Shouldn’t we call to–?”

“No,” Ada’s decisive voice warmed Hecate’s heart. She didn’t just hear a negative –in the woman’s “no” she could hear a promise: _I won’t fail her again_.

She just needed time to find her own way out. She just needed time to feel the heartbreak, the despair. To be vulnerable. Miss Drill nodded before quietly leaving the room.

*******

Next time consciousness came to Hecate, she saw Ada’s figure standing before the fireplace. Unlike the headmistress’ office, that space was not crowded. Only a carpet, reserved for her meditation, claimed the place that faced the fire.

_“How much time had passed?_ ” She thought, deeply troubled by the distress on Ada’s face and stiffness of her shoulders. “ _Probably too long_ ,” Hecate realised because of the woman's stance –almost defeated.

**…**

Hecate kept coming in and out of consciousness. Her magic had completely calmed and it tried to beat as steady as possible, to make her mistress strong again. She noticed Morgana was gone, probably aware that her mistress was slowly regaining control. Her familiar probably needed some time for herself, to be a regular cat once again rather than an anchor to her owner.

Regardless of how much time had passed, Ada’s magic had been a constant pulse by her side. With her regained strength, she would have liked to reach out and say to her that she could leave, even if it was for the briefest of minutes (after all, the woman had a school to run), but she was unable to. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was because she couldn’t or she rather had Ada by her side. After all, the woman’s tender gestures, heartfelt words and prayers made her stronger each day.

The next time Dimity Drill transferred into her room to leave a tray for Ada with something to eat, the woman spoke before the PE teacher could leave.

“Dimity. Wait,” hurt and doubt tinged Ada’s voice. “It’s been too long– I believe is time we call for St Mungo’s–”

“Please don’t,” Hecate heard herself pleading, her voice coarse and barely audible. Both women stared back at her in shock.

Ada beamed with joyful magic, nearly running to the side of the bed. Her hands were on Hecate’s face and without giving second thoughts she gave the strongest of kisses to the woman’s forehead. Hecate didn’t have the time or space to react, so Dimity Drill did gasp for her. She felt Ada’s strong arms hugging her as if her life depended on it.

“Welcome back, dearest,” Ada whispered amidst happy tears.

*******

A few more days passed by. Hecate still felt tired but her magic was getting stronger, its pulsing steady within her. As much as she would like to resume her daily life and school duties, Ada had forbidden (in her most persuasive, loving voice) her to leave her chambers just yet.

“You’re not fully recovered, Hecate, least to deal with teenage witches. Give it time, dear.”

However, against Ada’s wishes, well knowing and devoted to the quietness that claimed the castle and its corridors right before dawn, Hecate transferred to her potions’ lab. Her hands firmly gripped the edge of her desk, searching for balance as soon as she materialised in the room.

Stubborn Hardbroom, she would never admit that her magic wasn’t fully recovered and that despite her need of going back to her daily routine, she wasn’t entirely healed. But being there, surrounded by her potions, the scent of ingredients picked up in a better time, the steaming cauldrons… all that combined brought her peace. It strengthened her and magic too, like a boost to the spirit.

Miss Hardbroom knew Ada would transfer into the room any minute, sensible to the transference spell. After all, it was still early for any girl to be up wreaking havoc, which could only mean one thing: that her deputy disobeyed her orders. To her surprise, minutes later when the door opened, it revealed a sleepy Mildred Hubble, with a broom and bucket in each hand.

The girl gasped at the sight of her potion mistress, dropping broom and bucket which loudly crashed against the floor. Before Hecate could grasp what was happening or what Mildred was doing up so early in her potions’ lab of all places, she felt the girl’s intense magic. It was a warm feeling spreading from her heart and into the classroom, the girl’s pristine, young magic – _orange, definitely solar_ – reaching unconsciously for hers.

“Miss Hardbroom! You’re all right,” Mildred exclaimed. The next thing Hecate registered while trying to maintain her balance was Mildred practically crashing into her, the girl’s arm strongly closing over her weakened frame.

A wild orange mess invaded her vision when she opened her eyes, once the shocked passed. Or intensified, for that matter. A hesitant hand went to the girl’s back, rubbing gentle, soothing movements.

She also felt Ada’s magic even before the headmistress transferred into the room and was ready for her friend’s reprimand. But instead, when she glanced around, Miss Hardbroom found Ada’s loving blue gaze contemplating her exchange with Mildred. The reprimand would come later, she knew that too.

Indigo Moon’s memory still _and would_ ache but Hecate knew the feeling would, eventually, ease. The open, honest smile dancing across Ada’s lips and Mildred’s endearing yet asphyxiating hug meant that in spite of it all, she did have people who cared about her.

“Are you trying to suffocate me, Mildred Hubble?” she said, giving a gentle squeeze to the girl’s arms and putting space between them –the tears in the young witch’s now blue eyes struck her by surprise.

It wasn’t hard to let a kind smile spread on her lips while saying with a reassuring voice, “I wasn’t entirely honest when you asked, given the circumstances,” she saw the confusion in the girl’s eyes, so she continued. “When you asked me if what happened with Indigo was sad, Mildred. Well, it was… but, given time, it will pass.”

Hecate wasn’t sure if the words had been said for the girl’s sake or hers. Either way, once she spoke the words out loud, she felt something within her lighting up.

The girl launched into her arms once more, and she felt a strong sharp nod against her chest. Ada cleared her throat and Mildred finally noticed her presence, greeting her with her usual: “Miss Cackle.”

“Mildred, dear, I think Miss Hardbroom needs to get back to her room to try to rest a little bit more. Don’t you agree?”

Mildred nodded and went to fetch the broom and bucket she had dropped minutes ago, while Miss Cackle walked to Hecate. She kindly offered a hand which the woman took, not without giving her usual and majestic roll of her eyes. Then, Ada transferred them both to Miss Hardbroom’s private chambers.

“Surely you can’t expect the girls to follow the rules when _you_ , deputy head, breaks them,” Ada quipped as they materialised in the chambers. She didn’t let go of the young witch’s hand just yet.

“What I am going to do with you, Miss Hardbroom?” Ada added with a playful yet caring tone in her voice.

Hecate turned Ada’s hand in hers and gently caressed the woman’s open palm, the intimate gesture was neither familiar nor strange for both witches. She remained silent for a beat, contemplating their touching hands and Ada’s affectionate smile and loving gaze. Hecate took it all in and said, “I hope we can sort that out, _together_.”

It was then that Miss Hardbroom knew that eventually, everything would be fine.

***********

**Author's Note:**

> Raise your hands \o/ if you want to explore more of the flashback scene. I might be working on it… *intrigue intensifies*


End file.
